


Ganz ohne Licht

by TheCopperhead



Series: Ꮶᴜʀᴛ Ꮤᴀɢɴᴇʀ [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies)
Genre: Gen, Post-X2, X2: X-Men United (2003)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCopperhead/pseuds/TheCopperhead
Summary: Kurt didn't remained a permanent resident of the X-Mansion after the incident at Alkali Lake, as we all know. Diverse goals and ideals drove the mutant into leaving the team in search of insight and made him contemplate his choices and position in this world.





	Ganz ohne Licht

The rattling of the ground and walls was almost rhythmic, clanging of wooden and metallic boxes sounding through the entire wagon of a nightly cargo train as it rushed through a forest. It was naturally dark and chilly inside of the strung-out carrier, neither light nor warmth being required by the lifeless goods as they were chauffeured across the wide continent of America, traversing through cities and the countryside on their way from one cost to another. But, as it was bound to happen in the gloominess of their latest stop, not one railway worker had anticipated or discovered the presence of a quite unique stowaway, perhaps distracted by the train's lonely whistle.

With shadows acting as an ally of the devilish-looking man at all times, getting this free ride to the West had been a cinch. His stealth and speed, as well as the inherent ability to teleport, had assisted him in finding a convenient train and get into it without anyone noticing. It hadn't been much of a feat, the mutant knew that only too well, but there was still a slight sensation of excitement every time he sneaked past a person and succeeded. Being out in public, all alone and without anything but an old coat, a hat and a small bag of basically no belongings— it was the first experience of total and complete freedom, being bound to nothing and no one except of his teleportation range.

Lowering the leathery bag to the ground alongside himself with a muffled thud, Kurt Wagner exhaled a quiet and visible sigh into the frigid environment. A piece of bread, his last one, now rested in his palm. It ended up being turned relentlessly by the three digits of his hand, but was never raised towards his canine-fanged mouth. It's been dozen hours since his last meal, hours full of sneaking and teleporting in order to not let a single eye spot him during his search for another ride. This process, which had been going on since weeks, slowly but surely drained him. And yet, like a leopard— as the saying goes, he couldn't change his spots.

He was pondering, thinking since endless weeks and during both day and night about the next steps and choices in his life. Questions piled up in his mind, leaving no chances for the answers to catch up properly and crushing the blue-skinned male with indecisiveness and sorrows. Aloneness was of some use in this matter, separating him from too many distractions and emotions. It granted him a glimpse at things from a different point of view, granted him time to pray, overthink everything thoroughly and hopefully come to a defining conclusion about the X-Men.

 _That's_ why he left.

That's why he chose to leave the X-Men. He didn't knew what to truly think of them, what to expect from their goals and explanations. Kurt was told over and over again that they were fighting for a good cause, for the rights and well-being of their kind and for peace. They had somewhat proven it to him during the events at Alkali Lake, earning his gratitude and assistance in this mission. He wasn't questioning their good hearts and their intentions, but the opposite of 'good' was 'well-meant' and that was a lesson which had been taught to him through nothing but pure mental agony not too long ago. This repetitive word, fighting, as well as the general inclusion of violence and the acceptance of incredible sacrifices—all of this wasn't appealing to him.

Kurt was no more than a performer, after all, belonging onto a stage with an audience around him and not onto the battle field with vicious enemies circling him, ready to kill. This wasn't one of his favourite pirate-movies, where the hero sailed softly through the sunset in the end. Therefore, Nightcrawler made the decision to depart and wander, travel around the country and take a look at this unacquainted culture. It was an adventure, of course, but he mostly used the time to search for some sort of insight, not conceiving the impossible desire of becoming a tourist.

Only two other mutants were brought into the loop of the whole story; Charles and Ororo, both receiving a short explanation about Kurt's plan some days before the acrobat's secret departure and supporting him with tips and suggestions rather than senseless discussions. A few moments of doubt had occurred during long and yet incredibly peaceful nights, though, moments which made the acrobat question his silentness about this difficult but necessary choice. It had been merely a bit more than a month, but this team of mutants gave him a strangely new sense of home, welcoming him into their large family as if he'd always been a part of it. They all deserved to know, of course, but it wasn't that easy.

Scott really should have been informed, he often thought, not just because of his position as leader. Their irregular late night talks, happening mostly during the first weeks after the disaster at the lake and often referring especially to it, became valuable to Kurt— and it helped to get on with it, even though the indigo mutant shared almost none of the memories about his time at this dark place, usually listening and occasionally offering a thought.

Oh, and Kitty, his dear Kätzchen. The girl warmed his heart with each infectious smile, a smile which surely would have persuaded him into staying. Their friendship did had a rough start, just like almost every of Kurt's relationships. He wasn't confronted with fear of his appearance for the first time, though, and his persistence over the weeks turned out absolutely worth while, providing him a wonderful partner in crime in a wink.

Wolverine wasn't to be forgotten, too. His short time together with Logan, who seemingly disappeared and reappeared even more frequently than the mischievous teleporter himself, fascinated Kurt. At first, it seemed as if they were quite uncomfortable around each other, something vaguely unsettling preventing them from ever exchanging more than a curt greeting whenever they met. After loosing against the older man in a surprisingly exuberant training session, though, a trip towards a gas station in the middle of the night for some beer took their minds of for just long enough to let them become an odd pair of friends. Kurt wouldn't have imagined to grow that fond of this rough and mostly unpleasant guy during such a short time, but the simple man, who was hidden underneath this hard shell of Adamantium and who he saw standing by Jean's grave ever so often, intrigued him. If Logan would've only been there for a last drink and talk at this certain evening.

And then there was Ororo, who originally wouldn't have been consulted as well in this matter. Charles had thought differently, though, informing her and profiting from her argumentative skills and rather persuasive effects onto the teleporter after Kurt told him that he, being just a simple man, wasn't suited for this life. However, the conversation with the climate mutant went differently than expected; there was no real arguing at all, merely some questions which were often left unanswered, except of one. She asked him if he'd be okay— he nodded, despite his mixed feeling given the circumstances.

As it got to the point at which some kindly donated necessities were packed and both coat and fedora covered most of the demonic man's appearance, the three inaugurated persons gathered unspectacularly at the front door of the mansion. There wasn't anything left to say, but this didn't discouraged Wagner from expressing his gratefulness towards the owner of this wonderful institution for everything once again. What followed his few words was a short, but tight embrace by Storm. Kurt's mouth corners were still curving upwards at the bare thought of her quiet words, the treasured memory still igniting a spark of joy inside him.

"We'll miss you," she had said while pulling away, receiving no more than a whisper that mirrored the emotion before a dark flash of brimstone put an end to the scene.

The acrobat's lips parted, another sigh emitting and fading in the chilly air. He indeed missed this group of mutants already, the large hole in his heart, which had been filled ever so shortly, feeling once more empty after his departure. And yet Kurt still prayed for some sort of sign during almost each moment of quiescence, whispering his pleads into the night sky above until he fell asleep at whatever place his path brought him across. But was this the answer, perhaps? Was this supposed to be the solution for his problem? Would friendship and the craving for home and family bring him back to the X-Men?

Kurt had attempted to leave this desideratum behind for once and forever before, after making the biggest mistake in his whole life. The loss of his foster brother, caused by his very own hands, still haunted him, guilt pricking and scratching at the vulnerable heart of the blue male— and so did the silent abandonment in his mother's eyes done after she found them together in the mud. He'd lost everything that he had loved wholeheartedly in merely one night and through one unforgivable act of violence. He'd been desperate to explain and beg for forgiveness and mercy to his mother and sister, to his gone brother and his God, even though the latter had ignored the sobbed prayers of returning this one life in exchange of absolutely anything. Kurt couldn't judge either of them, the blame resting rightfully on only his shoulders.

He wasn't sure if this opportunity was a trap or test, wasn't sure if willingly embarking on a life which involved fighting until the end was the right thing to do. Despite his doubts and disagreeance in some aspects, Kurt had to admit that sitting on the mantelshelf of the President's legendary office with a team that stood together at all times had felt quite good, evoking a sense of strength inside of him and making him feel as if it was indeed possible to have an impact on the world, to change something for the better.

A quiet ringing sounded from beneath the leather of the bag beside him, the tension in his fingers almost crushing the piece of bread as he was dragged back into reality. There was confusion in the golden optics of this mutant as soon as the surprise subsided, gaze dropping to the source of this vibrational noise. Realization came within a few moments, luckily— it was the communicator for emergencies, given to him by Storm as they said their good byes. Kurt was nonetheless surprised by the fact that he wasn't the one to use it first, a fact which also sent quite some adrenaline into his bloodstream.

His tail, resting more or less motionlessly on the ground, rose itself into the air and curved towards the bag. The bony tip slithered in, wrapping around the small device and entangling it from clothes, more quickly than his hand would have ever been able to. He made nonetheless use of his hand afterwards, answering the call by pressing the one and only button that was available. He didn't hesitated, knowing that the communicator wouldn't have made a single noise unless something major was about to go down.

"Storm?"

Her voice answered him, sounding strangely upset and yet as determined as usually. It was basically impossible for the German to get everything that was said during this more or less one-sided conversation, the rather bad connection, the wagon's rattling around him and the use of an foreign language giving him a hard time. Nightcrawler still listened with furrowed brows, shifting into a more upright-position as specific names and words were uttered in alarming and irritating combinations.

"I'm. . . I'm on my way."

The news made him answer with solely one short sentence before deactivating the device. He possessed all the informations that were required for the task upon him. San Francisco, Alcatraz Island; those had been the most important key words from his point of view, context doing the rest. However, there were too many things wandering around his mind like ghosts in that moment, none of them truly making sense or seeming real to the entertainer and yet still filling the xanthic eyes with tears.

The Professor and Scott were gone and Jean was alive, out of control and dangerous. She clearly wasn't the wonderfully strong and selfless woman anymore, who found him inside a church months ago and seemingly gave her life to save all of them. Those tidings were equally upsetting and insane as the message of a mutant cure, a serum that would heal them and make them 'normal'. Kurt had naturally considered it during a halt in the poorer part of a large city some days ago, stalking around with a grumbling stomach and in the hope of not being discovered. He had indeed been imagining what a life without blue skin and fur, without a tail, fangs and pointed ears would be like. Or would he have merely lost his ability to teleport? How much was it able to change? He banned the bare thought from his mind after no longer than a minute, however, hopping onto another train in fear of the consequences, afraid of loosing himself. This time, however, he wouldn't cower away.

Wagner acted without wasting one more thought about it, fingers ripping a last tear away, tail darting out and tangling around a strap of his bag. Legs tensed and twisted at the same time, sending the man into a squatted position. One 'Bamf' later, the mutant was gone and left nothing behind than a scent of sulfur and a long forgotten piece of bread.

Claw-like nails were now digging into the metallic roof of the train in order to stabilize the man's risky position, locks of raven hair waving in the strong wind together with his in splashes of black paint covered coat. The forest around him provided everything that was required for a neat withdrawal, one powerful jump with stretched out arms and legs towards a tree trunk, freeing Kurt from the brusque vehicle, tail using the weight of his bag for more balance as his fingers and toes caught their target, muscles tensing to pull him up onto a branch. The stunt was then trailed by multiple teleportations through the forest, all focus being on going to the west and reaching the first settled destination since months.

With enough time and enough strength, going step by step and mile by mile, neither the West Coast nor Germany were too far away for him. If the wish to return there should truly manifest in his mind, then Kurt could always pack his things and leave immediately, join another circus and continue with his prior life as attraction. Until then, though. . .

"— until then I'll be a X-Man."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
